When an Elephant Sits on your Chest
I am sitting in my little office at our cottage in the Pines. I am following my daily ritual of the trying to solve the challenge of the N.Y. Times “Wordle.” If you don’t know it or haven’t played it, go no further. It will drive you crazy.
The sun has just peeked over the horizon. After a torrential rain last night there is a cerulean sky overhead. The trees are budding out. The little red maple outside our front door is showing its color. Today, more than ever, I am humming the hymn:
For the beauty of the earth,
For the glory of the skies,
For the love which from our birth,
Over and around us lies.
Lord of all, to Thee we raise,
This our hymn of grateful praise.
This past Sunday morning, April 3, 2022, I awoke with an elephant standing on my chest. Nitro helped a little, but not completely.
So Barb and I were off to the emergency room. Got great treatment at the ER at Sam Furr and Old Statesville Road I believe it is. (After a year here I don't know the names of the roads).
Late in the day, I was transferred to Atrium Hospital Cabarras. By ambulance, no less, but sadly no red lights and siren.
I managed to land a wonderful and experienced cardiologist, Dr. Paul Campbell, who saw me Sunday night and placed two stents in my arteries on Monday. Had big-time blockages, 90 percent, and 80 percent. So that’s the reason, I thought, that I have been huffing and puffing and hurting in recent months.
We came home at noon yesterday. I felt pretty good except washed out.
I was on a number of prayer chains and in a time of need, I'll take all the prayers I can get.
Got lots of love and care from my family, my friends, and my church present and past,
I recalled the words of the British author, Samuel Johnson, “The thought that a man is to be executed at sunrise concentrates his attention wonderfully.” Leading up to my cardiac cath, negative thoughts flooded my mind: “Will I have to have open-heart surgery?” “Will this mean we have to cancel our trip to the Netherlands later this month?” “Will I have a stroke on the table?” It happens one in a thousand times.
I find it easier to believe than to trust.
So as the sun rises higher on the horizon outside my window, I greet the new day with thanksgiving. It is good to be alive. “Dear God, may I be useful to someone today and help extend your invincible kingdom for all the days I have remaining.”